


a matter of worth, of family, of fate

by PuriPuki



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Gen, chrom and morgan are only briefly mentioned in passing, prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 09:27:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4216401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuriPuki/pseuds/PuriPuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucina, meaning illumination, giver of the first light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a matter of worth, of family, of fate

it will be worth it.  
you will not fail, not now.  
not ever again.  
with this sword at your side, you can fix things.  
you can save your aunts. your father. your brother. your mother.   
you can make everything right, stop the world from  
going down hill before the pebbles start dropping.  
take a deep breath, keep pushing, keep trying.  
it will be worth it.

the first thing you do is swing your sword, keeping it  
on your shoulders and pushing back, listening to the  
iron axe scratch your sword. your last momento.  
your aunt is trembling, holding herself tight against the rock behind her-  
soon enough the fight is done, and you see your mother for the first time   
in years. she is young, so very young and happy, and you almost smile.  
before what was once your family, you say that the world is teetering.  
you leave, making way for the north, towards the two people who  
will be like family to you in a matter of years.

the next time you see them, he is swinging his sword at you  
and your mother has a tome in her hand. they are clumsy,   
not as sharp and honed as they were before. you watch as they  
make their way to you, your father raises his sword. you raise yours,  
and do not smile at the gasp he makes. together, your father and mother  
defeat you, winning a victory for the east khan.   
from behind a brick column, you watch him reach for her hand and hope.  
she takes it, gripping her broken tome in the other, and raises her hand with his.  
another victory of many, maybe more in this timeline.

you slip up. they will know it’s you, you’ve slipped up.  
your mask is on the ground in pieces, your hair let loose once more.  
they do not recognize you.  
there’s no time for questions, you stand by your aunt’s door and  
destroy those who come near enough, and silently pray  
you will see your aunt alive again.

you don’t. the last you see of her is a limp form falling to the ground.

the next time you see your mother, you notice that she is not as lithe  
as she was before, and you know that she has had a child.  
you’ve been born in this timeline, at long last.  
your cover, weak and diminishing, is blown with a single word.  
you need to protect him, he needs to live.  
what happens to you doesn’t matter next to him.  
later, he looks into your eye and sees the same brand in your eye,  
and he glances at your sword.  
“you deserved more from me than a sword and a world of troubles”

not long after this, after the tears and sorrows are stuffed back down again,  
you find your little brother, alone and without his memories.  
he doesn’t remember the world you both hail from, and you are glad-  
do not give someone memories they wouldn’t want.  
he doesn’t remember you, or your father, just your mother and only you  
know why.   
a week from that day, you catch him trying to slice an apple with  
your father’s sword and you realize that for the first time,  
you’ve really had a family tied by blood.

the war is bloody. you warn the west khan and he doesn’t listen  
like you knew he would. during the march, you wonder,  
“have i truly fixed things at all?”  
by the time this happens, your cousin and three of your friends  
travel with you, a comfort in a world that isn’t yours.  
you’ve missed these things, and are glad that you’re not alone.  
the march home is long. the escape from the castle is even longer,  
and you were left to watch in horror as your mother takes the emblem.  
you know what you have to do.

she knows you, loves you, cares for you. she’s your mother  
and you tell yourself, this is how it must be. for the greater good, for the world.  
you raise your sword and point it at your mother’s heart.  
she accepts your decision, agrees with you and sees your reasoning.  
these are hard tears to hide.  
you must do it, you tell yourself, and yet you find the sword slipping from your hands.  
you can hardly remember what happens next.   
it’s too hard.  
for the first time, you don’t want to remember.

you see your mother stand on the neck of the fell dragon,  
holding a battered thoron tome in hand, and she turns back to smile at you.  
you cannot hold back the tears, not after that.

the next time you see your mother, there is no mark on her hand.


End file.
